and
pecuniary anxiety had come to cloud their happiness. Still, she was not
utterly cast down. Paul had proved himself a manly and a helpful boy,
self-reliant and courageous, and, though they might be pinched, she knew
that as long as he was able to work they would not actually suffer.

CHAPTER IX

A NEW PATRON

Mrs. Hoffman went out in the afternoon, and visited several large
establishments in the hope of obtaining work. But everywhere she was met
with the stereotyped reply, "Business is so dull that we are obliged to
turn off some who are accustomed to work for us. We have no room for new
hands."

Finally she decided that it would be of no use to make any further
applications, and went home, feeling considerably disheartened.

"I must find something to do," she said to herself. "I cannot throw upon
Paul the entire burden of supporting the family."

But it was not easy to decide what to do. There are so few paths open to
a woman like Mrs. Hoffman. She was not strong enough to take in washing,
nor, if she had been, would Paul, who was proud for his mother, though
not for himself, have consented to her doing it. She determined to think
it over during the evening, and make another attempt to get work of some
kind the next day.

"I won't tell Paul till to-morrow night," she decided. "Perhaps by that
time I shall have found something to do."

All that day, the first full day in his new business, Paul sold
eighteen ties. He was not as successful proportionately as the previous
afternoon. Still his share of the profits amounted to a dollar and
twelve cents, and he felt quite satisfied. His sales had been fifty
per cent. more than George Barry's average sales, and that was doing
remarkably well, considering that the business was a new one to him.

The next morning about ten o'clock, as he stood behind his stand, he saw
a stout gentleman approaching from the direction of the Astor House.
He remembered him as the one with whom he had accidentally come in
collision when he was in pursuit of Mike Donovan. Having been invited to
speak to him, he determined to do so.

"Good-morning, sir," said Paul, politely.

"Eh? Did you speak to me?" inquired the stout gentleman.

"Yes, sir; I bade you good-morning."

"Good-morning. I don't remember you, though. What's your name?"

"Paul Hoffman. Don't you remember my running against you a day or two
since?"

"Oho! you're the boy, then. You nearly knocked the breath out of